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I loved you. I didn't tell you. You loved me. You didn't tell me. I moved on. I was hopeless. You gave up. I took the blame. You found love. I was broken. You mistrusted her. I was the shoulder you cried on. I love you. I hope you love me.
I'm dead on the inside, I just feel miserable and sad all the time.
If it weren't to my son, I already would have killed myself. I just don't want to live anymore.
so i've never told anyone this, hell if this place wasn't anonymous i would probably post this under a fake name and ask if any of you guys wanted to make this a reality ;) but anyway.
Basically, i'm 20 years old now but thinking back, i wish my 16th birthday was different, in reality it was a fairly typical birthday, but now? Now i wish it was just me, and a group of horny gay men, each taking their turn with me ;)
Hell, it's my dream at this point, and i'm hoping one day i can find people to help out with it, hehe
I can feel the scars on my wrist after they are partially healed and I think they feel like braille, and I just want to make more to keep that feeling alive.
My best friend and I along with her cousin and a friend all shared a house when we went off to college. Four girls all in one house and we got along great. Whenever we ordered pizza we would take turns answering the door naked. It was such fun seeing the look on the delivery persons face.
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